The First Love Job
by wontquitmydayjob
Summary: Thirteen-year-old Sam Ford is in love...and not entirely sure what to do about it.  The team tries to help, but they kind of suck at it...


_So, usually I don't even like AU stories, much less write them, but I have realized I am a sucker for any story where Sam interacts with any member of the team, and then somehow this story happened…_

_So, for background, assume that even after Blackpoole denied the claim for one treatment, Sam barely survived by some last-ditch, hail-Mary experimental trial study or something and pulled through, but not soon enough to save their marriage. So, Maggie and Nate are (mostly amicably) divorced, Nate was still pissed at IYS for almost killing Sam, and so still met Dubenich, still met the team, and the storyline went on the same from there. So basically, everything is the same except Sam is alive._

_I make no promises for this being updated in a timely fashion._

**Chapter 1**

The summer Sam turned thirteen, Maggie was invited to oversee the setting up of a new Renaissance art wing at a recently renovated museum in Barcelona. In addition to being an excellent opportunity and a huge boost for her career, it was also three months spent in Spain, and she could use the break from Los Angeles.

Nate was thrilled to have Sam staying for his entire summer break, but it also raised the issue of how to keep Sam from finding out what they really did. Maggie knew the gist of it, after the incident with Blackpoole, but Sam accepted the explanation that his dad was some kind of "consultant" and didn't really ask about it any further- it sounded pretty boring. Usually when Sam visited, over long weekends and holidays and school breaks, it was easy enough to hide, they'd simply take a few days off, and Sam never seemed to find it strange that his Dad's coworkers hung around his apartment. But a three month break from taking jobs was something else entirely- Nate knew only too well the kind of havoc his team could wreak when they were bored and left to their own devices. He told them they'd play it by ear- if some kind of safe, low key case came along that they could manage without Sam noticing, they wouldn't rule it out.

The day Sam arrived they were still tying up some loose ends from the case they'd just finished. After twenty minutes of listening to Nate and Hardison try to decide what evidence to email to Bonanno to really mail the mark, without actually saying any of those words, Sam was definitely confused. Sophie offered to take him to the store, since he had declared upon arrival there was absolutely nothing to eat. Hardison took offense to this- what kind of teenage boy didn't consider gummi frogs a staple- but Sophie had to admit it was true. Eliot had pretty much taken over feeding everyone, and he insisted on buying his own ingredients, claiming they never got the right things.

She let Sam get whatever he wanted, hoping to give Nate and Hardison time to tie everything up, and they headed back to headquarters chatting companionably about baseball (she'd made a point of learning a few things about it, as it was a surefire way to engage both Ford men in conversation.)

They were getting on the elevator when someone called "Wait! Hold the elevator!"

Sam hit the "door open" button as a girl hurried through the lobby. Sophie recognized her vaguely- twelve or thirteen, long blond hair, wearing shorts and a pretty pink shirt- and thought she lived on the fourth floor. She didn't know her name, but occasionally exchanged pleasantries or a comment about the weather with her parents. Nate was still on fairly good terms with his neighbors, since they hadn't blown anything up. (Yet. They all assumed it was just a matter of time.)

"Thanks!" the girl said breathlessly, joining them in the elevator.

"Um…sure," Sam said.

For a long twenty seconds nothing happened, until Sophie finally said, gently, "Sam, you can stop pressing the "door open" button now."

"Oh, right."

Sophie wouldn't have guessed it was possible to turn that red that quickly without causing an aneurysm.

"Did you just move in?" the girl asked Sam, as the doors slid closed. When he didn't answer immediately she explained, "just I've never seen you before, and there aren't that many apartments in the building, so I usually recognize people."

"Uh…I…my dad…for summer…staying-"

Sophie wondered why the usually-articulate Sam had suddenly forgotten what order words went in, and then she saw his face. She knew that look. Knew it very well, in fact- that was the look that told her she had a mark exactly where she wanted him. Sam took a deep breath and finally put the sentence together correctly.

"I'm staying with my Dad for the summer."

"Oh, cool," the girl stuck out her hand. "I'm Katie, I live on the fourth floor."

"I'm, uh…"

"Sam?" Katie suggested helpfully, when the pause lasted a little too long. "She just said your name," she added, indicating Sophie.

"Oh yeah…"

Luckily for Sam it was a short elevator ride, and as they stepped off, the girl said, "Maybe I'll see you around, then?"

"Yeah, maybe…"

The doors slid shut and he remained staring at them, dazed, until Sophie touched his shoulder.

"Coming?"

"Oh right. Yeah."

"So, she seemed nice," she said casually.

"Yeah, whatever."

He sounded uninterested, but over the time she'd spent with Sam, Sophie had learned to translate "teenage boy." She'd found that an eyeroll indicated disapproval, a shrug was neutral, "whatever" indicated approval, and "pretty cool, I guess" was a rave review.

"Very pretty, too," she added.

"Didn't really notice."

"You should see if she wants to do something. There aren't a lot of kids in the building, she'd probably be glad to have some company."

That elicited a shrug and "I dunno" but she could see the idea had taken hold.

* * *

><p>"Nate, you have <em>talked<em> to Sam, haven't you?" she asked later that night, when they were going to bed. He blinked at her.

"I was talking to Sam twenty minutes ago. So were you. Remember?"

He was looking at something Hardison had given him from the case they had finished up, not really paying attention.

"I meant have you talked to him about girls, and dating, and all that?"

That got his full attention.

"He's too young to be dating!"

"He's thirteen, Nate."

"Exactly!"

"Nate, I know it's hard to think that Sam is getting older, but think back to when you were thirteen. You liked girls. I mean I had boyfriends when I was thirteen."

"Yeah, but you're-" he cut off abruptly, apparently thinking the better of what he was going to say.

"I'm what, exactly?"

"You know…" he made a vague hand gesture.

"No, enlighten me."

"You're you," he said, as if that explained it all. "You're good at that stuff. I mean, I love Sam, but he's not exactly smooth."

"Of course not, he's thirteen. Everyone's awkward when they're thirteen," she said.

"Well, he knows all that stuff…I mean about sex and where babies come from. We talked to him about that."

"That's good, but it might be time to take it a little beyond biological facts. You know, how to talk to girls? There was this girl in the elevator today, she was really cute, and-"

"He's got a girlfriend?"

"Nate, calm down. Of course not, he only got here today, even Eliot couldn't work that quickly," she hesitated, and then amended, "All right, he probably could. Anyway, I could tell he liked her-"

"Oh, no no no. No, Sophie."

"What!" she said, giving him the innocent _I-have-no-idea-how-those-diamonds-got-in-my-handbag_ look that never really worked on him anymore.

"I know that look. You are _not_ playing matchmaker for Sam."

"But I wasn't going to do anything really, just-"

"No, Sophie."

"But-"

"Look, I'll talk to him, but _no interfering_ in Sam's love life."

She sulked as he turned out the light, but then curled up next to him with her head on his chest, so he knew she wasn't really mad.

"So were you awkward when you were thirteen?" he asked after awhile.

"Mhm, I had braces and everything."

"Please tell me there are photos of that."

"Keep dreaming, Ford."


End file.
